by Marie Scully
“Who? Who are you talking about, James?” I can feel my face twist in confusion.
He turns forward again. I can no longer see his face.
“You know who, Danny.” His voice carries back to me.
“No, I don’t. Why are we here? How are you here?” I ask his back.
“You tell me. You’re the one dreaming.”
“I don’t want it to be a dream,” I reply, knowing that changes nothing.
“Why not? In reality, we could never get this high. It’s fun. It’s okay to like someone, Danny. It’s okay to move on with your life.” He keeps swinging faster and faster. I push my legs as hard as I can and pressure builds in my calves.
“Slow down, James. I’m trying to keep up with you, but you need to slow down,” I yell at him, frustrated that he won’t listen.
“You could never keep up with me. That wasn’t a bad thing.” His laughter is caught in the wind drifting back to me. I close my eyes, listening to the sound. Trying to memorize it.
“Let me catch you this once. It’s my dream, after all.”
He looks back once more, his eyes sparkling. “It’s okay to like him, little sister.”
“James!” I scream as he jumps off the swing to the ground. We’re too high up; there’s no way he can make it. I try to lean out of my seat to follow him. I try to let my fingers slip. But I can’t make them let go. I will them to let go and let me go after him, but they refuse to release what little material they have in their grasp.
He’s already gone, and I can’t go after him.
Chapter Eleven
Liam
The long, black snack table has been turned into a beer pong table, sticky with spilled beer, and the little white plastic ball that weighs hardly anything fits firmly between my fingers. Raising it and eyeing my target, I let it slide from my fingers, flying through the air till it circles the top of the cup, almost not going in—but at the last second falling to meet the amber liquor.
The next ball misses its target, but the third and final one lands in the cup to the right of the first. Ben doesn’t speak as he removes the landed cups from the game board. Plucking the balls from the cups and the floor, he takes his turn.
Words and questions start falling from my lips with no control. “Do you have any interest in Danny? What do you even know about her? Where is she from? How does she know how to ride?”
Ben sits the balls on the table as he takes me in, smirking. I have the urge to smack him. “No, I have no interest in Danny besides being friends. You know Megan has always been the one for me. As far as what I know about her, not much, honestly. Grandma called and told us that she’d made a spontaneous hire and that she liked the girl. That she knew she had a past, but Danny never talked about it. Danny’s different than most of the girls you’ve gone out with. I sense that there’s more to her than meets the eye. I can see you’re interested in her. You going to ask her out?”
I shrug in response. She intrigues me but in a different way than most. Ben is correct that she’s the complete opposite of who I’ve dated before. That could be dangerous. I don’t know what possessed me to kiss her that night, but I knew immediately afterward that it was a mistake because I haven’t been able to remove her from my mind. Perhaps I’d hoped the kiss would show that there was, in fact, no chemistry between us—that we’d have one kiss and be done. But it was the complete opposite, as if something had shifted between us. I’m used to being in control, but right now I feel anything but in control of my fast-growing feelings for Danny. It’s as if I’ve lit a match and can’t blow it out. I have the sense that this isn’t going to be a simple flame.
“Is the great Liam worried about asking someone out?”
I can tell Ben is happy at the idea and roll my eyes before throwing the ball in his direction. He catches it as it hits his chest.
“Oh, come on, Liam. The worst thing that’ll happen is she’ll tell you no. It may be good for your ego.” Ben cracks a bigger grin.
“Ha ha, you would love that. Good friend you are,” I joke.
“Liam, most guys are worried about asking a girl out they like—it’s normal. You’re getting this feeling because you’ve never asked someone out that you saw a future with. Hell, even when you asked Nicole, it was no biggie. Partly because you knew sooner or later it would run its course and you would both move on. Even Nicole knows that. But Danny—you see something there, don’t you?”
I don’t respond but that doesn’t stop Ben from continuing. “Ask her out, Liam. You never know—she may say yes. But be serious. I like her, and let’s be honest, you don’t open up all that easily, and neither does Danny. You may have to be the one to open up first if you want it to work.” He tells me nothing I don’t already know, but hearing it and perceiving it are two different things.
Ben picks up the balls once more. One, two, three in one cup after another. His voice rises above the beat of the music to ask how I’m doing. I’d known that at some point he was going to ask me that serious question, but I don’t have an answer for him. I don’t know how I’m doing. Most days now I don’t think about my mom. It’s too painful, and putting it in a box and closing the lid keeps me sane. But some days the box opens and all the contents come crawling out. Today was one of those days.
Ben knows me well enough to know not to ask again. If I wanted to answer, I would. Lifting the beer bottle to my lips, I swig the contents down my throat, hoping that the alcohol will help me forget what today was. When Danny was getting up to leave, I panicked as if she was my anchor and grabbed hold of her, hoping she would keep me afloat. I still can’t believe I asked her to stay. I never do that. I need to get a grip.
What I didn’t tell her, even though I unexpectedly wanted to, is that today is my mom’s birthday. It’s also the anniversary of her death. I find one of Ben’s couches around 3:30 a.m. and dream. The dream comes easily, almost like welcoming an old friend home. It always starts off the same. Peaceful, happy—till it isn’t. The ending is what changes. Sometimes it flashes to the grave, and I’m thankful when it’s that ending. Other times, like tonight, I’m not so lucky.
❖
The weather is hot. Sticky hot. The kind of heat where the sweat that falls from your body almost cools you off because at least it’s water. My mom’s quick hands connect the small sprinkler to the hose. Lex and I eye it as if it’s our salvation. Lex jumps up and down at the excitement of playing in the water. Mom’s soft laugh comes at the sight.
Moving to turn on the hose, her smile firmly in place, she’s just as excited to cool off as we are. “Ready?” she asks before she turns the spigot. She watches the excitement on our faces.
“Yes!” Now I’m jumping the same as Lex.
With one last twist, water runs through the long green hose till it comes out the little holes on the sprinkler. Lex hops right in, squealing with excitement. Jumping in myself, the water feels amazing against my burning-hot skin, and Lex and I dance as little puddles form on the grass. Mom sits on the deck watching us till finally her own skin can no longer take the heat and she joins in the fun, running through the water, laughing, Mom picks up Lex with a swinging motion as Lex lets out giggle after giggle, and she spins through the air in Mom’s arms. Then suddenly the sun is blocked; the warmth disappears. Mom puts Lex down as her grin fades to a frown. Her eyes meet mine, then turn towards the sky.
Following her lead, I see that storm clouds have taken over the once-clear blue sky. The water that had only moments ago felt divine on my skin is now giving me goosebumps and a chill over my body, and large angry raindrops begin to fall from the sky. Mom urges Lex up the deck towards the door. She signals for me to follow but the lightning that’s striking through the sky distracts my eyes. With a flash I am thrown to a different moment of my past.
As with the first part of the dream, it’s raining again. Lightning dances access the sky, flashing through the curtains, thunder making its presence known. This time, however, I’m in the hous
e. All the lights are turned off, Lex at a friend’s house and my dad long asleep.
I slip down to get a glass of milk and a peanut-butter cookie. I haven’t been caught yet. I know I’m not supposed to eat this late, but the cookie was calling to me. I only had to make it up the stairs and down the hall, I could open the door quietly and then I could enjoy my cookie and milk in the comfort of my bed. I just had to be careful to eat all the crumbs. Holding the glass of milk tight while holding the cookie gently is a chore, but I know I can do it.
But thunder cries again, making me jump and almost spill the milk. Silently entering the doorway, I check to see if anyone is there before tiptoeing towards the stairs. Checking the family room, I see something lying on the floor, half hidden by the wall.
What is that? I wonder. Curiosity has me inching forward now—this is more interesting than the cookie. Once more, lightning is illuminating the room, revealing something that looks to be an arm. Whose arm? I wonder. Why would anyone be lying on the floor?
Continuing to take tiny steps forward, I fully enter the room. My mom’s hair spills along her back, her body lying on the floor much the way Lex throws her dolls. Her other arm is hidden underneath her body.
“Mom?” I whisper, not wanting to disturb her.
Maybe she’s camping out in the family room. We’d done that a few weeks ago. Maybe she was sleepwalking and ended up here. Dad had sleepwalked one time and ended up in one of the cars.
“Mom?” I question more loudly. Concern mixes with the question, and goosebumps form on my arms. The feeling that something isn’t right fills my body as the glass of milk falls from my fingers. The cookie, long forgotten, is now crumbled to the point of no return. Rushing to her, I try shaking her. First gently then harder. Willing her to wake and tell me what’s wrong.
I call to her loudly now, but she still doesn’t wake, her soft star PJs in my hands as I push harder into her body, trying to get a reaction from her. Any reaction. Jumping to my feet I run from the room, up the stairs two at a time, and swing open the door to my parents’ room. “Wake up!” I yell at my father and shake him towards awareness.
Moaning and angry, he looks at me, his green eyes flashing with anger, but before he can say anything, I rush out that something is wrong with Mom and run once more towards her fallen form. I hear his footsteps behind me, stopping as he enters the room. Then he rushes to her side. Placing a finger to her neck, he mumbles words that I can’t catch. I want to ask him why he has his finger to her neck, but I don’t want to interrupt him.
Jumping to his feet he grabs the phone, quickly dialing. He speaks fast to the person on the other end. I don’t hear the words. It’s as if I’m underwater, my ears hurting from the pressure forming.
Moving my hands to her form again, I continue to try to wake her. But she won’t wake; no matter how hard I try, she won’t wake.
❖
Waking the next morning in a sweat-soaked bed is another reminder of the dream. As if my mind won’t remember it well enough. Glancing around the room, I realize that I’m on Ben’s coach. I laugh bitterly, realizing that I have no headache from the night before. I would have preferred the headache to the dream. It would linger longer than any headache. Some people go to their parents’ grave on their birthday or the anniversary of their death. Me, I prefer the good old drinking-one’s-problems-away solution. Most people frown about that, but most people don’t have both things in the same day. And most people don’t have pretty, inquisitive eyes haunting them. Making them want to talk about things instead. Things that need to be long forgotten.
Wanting to get my mind back to something normal, I quickly make the decision to start cleaning. Someone has to do it before Ben’s parents get home.
Chapter Twelve
Danny
I wake the following day to pounding both in my head and on my door. I try to get rid of the headache by rubbing my temples. It does nothing to remove the ache but was worth a try. The pounding on the door continues. Maybe if I stay quiet, they’ll go away.
Nope. The pounding gets louder and quicker. “What?” I yell at the door, wincing at my own voice.
The door opens, revealing Ben. He quickly walks into the room, saying, “I need your help. I know the party wasn’t your idea, but they’re getting back earlier than planned, and it’s still terrible. Please. I’ll do anything.” His gaze meets mine, pleading. I keep my hand over my eyes, trying to block out the light and say, “You do all my work tomorrow and the next day.”
Relief appears on his face. “Deal. Thank you!”
I follow him out the room and down the stairs, noting that the stench gets worse the further downstairs we get. As I step off the bottom step, I instantly regret my decision to help. My eyes take in the scene, scanning the mess. Red Solo cups line the room like lawn ornaments, spilled chips cover the couch, red I-don’t-even-know-what stains the wall. There’s random trash everywhere. I move to take a closer look at the stained wall and realize that my foot is sticking to the floor. I glare at Ben, and he looks away. “It’s a nightmare,” I say at him. He won’t meet my eyes.
“Good morning, sunshine.” Liam strolls into the room like this is an everyday event for him. It probably is, but I bet he hires people to help clean the mess. He’s holding a half-filled black trash bag. He has another empty one under his arm he hands to me. I open it thinking it’ll be filled in no time.
“Just us three?” I ask, hoping by some miracle that people are in the other room helping to clean.
“Yep. Megan and Nicole were out the door before we could even ask for their help,” Liam answers, picking up a cup off the floor.
The amount of sticky, wet, and colorful stains on my hands and the bottom of my shoes amazes me. Nineteen bags, deep cleaning, and four hours later, the house is back to normal. Or as close as it’s going to get.
“Put the bags in my car and I’ll throw them out,” Liam calls from outside. I lift the two bags closest to me and walk into the cool air. I drop the bags at his feet and ask, “Won’t your dad ask questions?”
Liam chuckles, replying, “He doesn’t care that much. As long as he’s not walking in it, he won’t ask any questions, just give me the look of shame.” He lowers his voice. “Before Ben comes out, I wanted to ask you something.”
For the first time since I met Liam, he looks like he’s lost his confidence for a second—as if he wants to run from me.
“Do you want to get dinner this week?” He rushes the words out with one breath. He continues to stare at me, waiting for my answer. My lips part with surprise and my brain tries to catch up with what my ears heard. Did he just ask me out on a date?
“You want to go out? With me?” I’m still confused. The anxiety eases from his face and old Liam returns in a flash.
“Yes. Why are you surprised?” he asks with general confusion.
Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because your ex looks a Victoria’s Secret model and has a personality that’s the polar opposite of mine? I bite my tongue. Should I go out with him? Based on my body’s reaction, it definitely wants to. My mind, on the other hand, has other concerns. I want to go out with him more than anyone else in the past. Something about him makes me want to know his secrets, dreams, and desires. But to do that, he would want to know about me. With that comes my past, and I’m not going to go there. Hopefully, he had enough drinks to have forgotten our conversation last night.
Plus, I don’t know how Ben would feel about me going on a date with his friend. Ben is my only friend here and I don’t want to lose him when things don’t work out with Liam—and things would not work out with Liam.
“I really think…” The last of what I was going to say is lost as Ben comes running out the house, saying, “They’re going to be here in ten minutes. Liam, thanks for the help, but you need to make like a bird and fly.”
Liam looks at Ben and says, “Well, that’s a new one. All right, I’ll make a break for it.” Liam and Ben slap hands and give each other a
side hug. “Good party. Danny, think on it.”
Liam opens the door to his red BMW, and it purrs to life before it glides down the driveway.
“What did he want you to think about?” Ben asks me.
“Um.” I keep staring down the drive. “He wanted to know if I wanted to take refresher riding lessons from him. Like a jumping course.”
“Oh, that’s not a bad idea. You should take him up on the offer,” Ben says as if that’s the best choice. I think not.
❖
I know I shouldn’t have said that, but it’s confirmed that I really shouldn’t have said that when I get a text from Liam that night that reads, I hear I’m giving you riding lessons. Were you thinking the horse type or the more fun option?
“Ass,” I mumble, throwing the phone across the bed.
I pull out my book just as the phone vibrates with a new text. Nope, it can wait. I open to a page and start reading. I make it to page five before curiosity gets the best of me. It’s Liam again. Have you decided to go get that dinner with me? Give me a chance.
I’m distracted by Ben walking into the room.
“Come on—you have to see this!” He grabs my hand, pulling me from the room.
“OKAY.”
“You know how Flame won’t let anyone ride him,” he rushes out. I can barely get my nod out before he continues. “Ever since you came, he’s been letting more people near him. My mom’s been slowly letting him get used to a saddle. He’s been able to leave it on longer and longer each time. She’s going to try to get on him.” We both quicken our steps.
Before our eyes is Sarah on Flame’s back. Flame looks at the ground then up again, swinging his neck back and forth, stomping his feet, trying to decide how he wants to handle the situation. Sarah calmly runs her finger along his coat and speaks softly to him.